Deimos and Strife's Excellent Adventure
by Rocket-Strife
Summary: Strife and Deimos try to kiss their good friend perpetual virginity goodbye


Title: Deimos and Strife's Excellent Adventure  
  
Series: Silly one off for Dawn's het challange  
  
Author: Strife  
  
Rating: PG for adult themes and naughty words, ya wingnut!  
  
Fandom: Herc/Xena  
  
Spoilers: Erm...none that I know of. Except that Joxer is quite the popular one at Meg's. But who didn't know that, for the love of pale squishy things?!  
  
Pairings: Well...none as such really.  
  
Summary: Strife and Deimos go to a brothel.  
  
Feedback: Oh...all I can get.  
  
E-mail: redsonja316@hotmail.com  
  
Archive: Indeed. Just let me know where.  
  
Disclaimer: These lovely fellows (With an exception of Seth, he's my goat boy, and Harmonia, she was created by Dawn) all belong to the folks at Ren pics. No Copyright infringement intended...and now...Mr. Goody Two Shoes, Mr. Goody Two Shoes...*bang!* I ain't that good. Bwahahahaha...*hack hack*.  
  
  
  
Laughter sounded across Apollo's pad as Seth banged his arm, entwined in a leather gauntlet, on the smooth oak table. Deimos, whom was holding his cards tightly to his chest, was pulling his best 'I-just-sucked-a-lemon- face' at his cousin's reaction to his story of sexual conquest; turning, he saw Harmonia was biting her tongue and Strife's face was contorted with maniacal giggles, Apollo shaking his head in disgust.  
  
"Where do you get off telling a story like that?" Apollo demanded; Deimos' lip quibbled. "Everyone from here to Olympus knows you're a damn virgin!" Deimos opened his mouth to argue the futile point, but Apollo wasn't done. "I've never met anyone who is as full of shit as you are."  
  
"Dat's right!" Seth smirked. "And yer could have least made it sound a little believable. Hookin up with da Queen of da Nile? Cleopatra?" He broke down into laughter once again. "Dat's ridiculous! I might as well say I boinked Hera!"  
  
"Ewwww!" Strife moaned. He shifted uneasily in his chair. "Yucky, coz. That's real sick dude."  
  
Seth shrugged, and tossed two of his cards in the middle. "Two cards, Mistress Dealer lady!" It was quite obvious he had taken in a little too much wine. "Tee hee! Boink is a kinda funny word, aint it?"  
  
Harmonia sighed, and handed him two cards, before dealing another three for herself. The game of strip poker had begun a few hours after she and her esteemed colleagues had arrived at Apollo's for Saturday night drinking and ribs. Seth hadn't been invited, of course; he was not a favorite for the family gatherings, what with all the scruffiness and inadequaete social skills. Still, he had managed to tag along with Strife; the two of them could be seen bumming around Ares temple more and more of late, trying to figure out exactly what they were going to do with their pointless immortal lives. The best they could come up with his sitting around with her on a Saturday night, driving her insane. Not that Deimos was wanted either; it was going to be her Apollo, and Cupe this evening, and instead she was subjected to her warmonger cousins and idiot brother.  
  
"Cupid, if yer don't get back in here soon, I'm gonna look at yer cards, yer hear?!" Seth slurred. "Or you'll have to strip this round! Strip I say! Tee hee!"  
  
"Why won't you believe that me and Cleo had a tryst?" Deimos whined. "You never believe me! It just isn't fair! It could have really happened for all you know."  
  
"It better not be." Apollo snapped. "I've been seeing Cleopatra."  
  
"What?" Deimos gulped. "Did I say I was bonking her...?"  
  
"Boinking." Seth corrected.  
  
"Boinking her? Whoops, I meant to say that...I was...erm. Well everyone knows I'm a virgin!" Deimos paused, twitchily staring at the Golden God, who's face had broken into a grin.  
  
"And everyone knows I'm not seeing Cleopatra, you moron."  
  
"Oh, why cruel fate, why?!" Deimos demanded, as Cupid made his way shakily to the table. Her big brother did not look good at all; it was known all round that Cupid just couldn't take his alcohol. Picking up his cards, he stared at them for a moment, set them down, and promptly headbutted the table. With a sigh, Harmonia collected his cards and shoved them back in the deck.  
  
"You're out?"  
  
"I'm out." Came his muffled reply. "On a semi-permanant basis."  
  
The round ended uneventfully, Deimos losing yet another game. Oh why did her brother, and her nimrod cousins, have to be so bad at poker? And why did Apollo have to be so damn good? She stared at his fully clothed form longingly as Deimos struggled to take off his jumpsuit. It was all he had left; Harmonia rose with a look that was brutal.  
  
"Deimos." She started. "Remove an earring. NOW."  
  
"Ooh yeah!" Deimos thrust his thumb into the air. "Thanks sis!"  
  
Cupid's incoherent groans came from his mouth flattened upon the table yet again; Harmonia's eye twitched in frustration as Apollo won one countless round after another; Strife and Deimos were reduced to underwear, and Seth had taken all his clothes off before the game had even begun. Not that it mattered. She'd never seen the guy in pants anyway. She herself has lost one sandal and a necklace. Yes, this game was a total failure.  
  
"Heyyyy, whattabout spin da bottle?" Seth suggested, elbowing Harmonia with a grin. He was rewarded with a bowl of nuts being poured systematically over his head. Deimos, who was sitting despondantly in his Ancient Greek Jockies, began muttering to himself.  
  
"It's not fair. Why do I have to be a virgin?"  
  
"Because." Strife thought for a moment, shifting in his Ancient Greek boxers. "You're a wingnut."  
  
"Damn right!" Seth giggled. "He's da biggest wingnut knob jockey on da face of da earth! Tee hee!" Suddenly, his face became very serious. "But Strifey, aint yer a virgin too? Yeah, yer are! I forgot about dat, so it makes yer both wingnuts."  
  
"What is a wingnut?" Apollo asked, setting his cards down with a bored look in his face. Cupid mumbled something in reply, but it was not understood by any of the party.  
  
"Shut up, wingnut!" Seth snapped. Apollo's sigh was dramatic and filled with pent up frustration.  
  
"Why don't you three just GO home?" Harmonia muttered, rising from her seat and casting the most evil look she could muster towards her three relatives. Strife looked hurt. Deimos looked relieved. Seth was the epitome of alcoholic indifference. "Just go. Okay? Go home, and leave me alone!"  
  
Deimos rose first, scooping up his brown leather leisure suit, and blinking and nodding in a seemingly apolegetic manner, he headed towards the door. Seth staggered up next, collecting his shirt which had been flung over the disco ball, and rather half-assed, clopped fowards with a lurch, only to desposit the contents of his stomach in a pot-plant. Strife, who looked as betrayed as ever, wandered from the table last of all, his feet dragging slightly. But Harmonia's gaze was cast at Golden Boy, and with a sigh, Strife followed his two cousins into the night.  
  
^*^*^  
  
"Deimos, we have gotta lose our virginity." Strife declared, as they wandered the deserted path of a mortal village near Ares' temple. "We aren't gonna get invited ta no more parties if we don't. Ya completely wrecked everything for us with the Cleopatra story, ya know?"  
  
"Did not." Deimos sulked, before flinging himself to his knees and talking a firm grip of Strife's leg. "Oh Cousin Strife..." He bawled. "Tell me what I can do to score women! Help me!"  
  
"If ya haven't noticed you ass wad, we're kinda in the same predicament here." He rolled his eyes. "Even Seth isn't a virgin. Seth! The guy is a goat!"  
  
"Yeah, but he's a goat with CHA-RIS-MA!" Deimos broke into his annoying little laugh; which soon fell back into pathetic sobbing. "You're not helping, alright!" With wide eyes, and his arms still firmly wrapped around his safety pin encrusted cousin's leg, his attention wandered to a small tavern on the corner, riotous shouting and laughter sounding from within. "Wait!" He rose. "There! A tavern! There has gotta be chicks in there! We're gonna score Strife, we're gonna score!"  
  
"Ya think?" But Deimos was excitedly running towards the building; a run which could be almost classified as a 'frolick'. "Hey, wait for me!" The two of them loped through the doors of the small inn, to be greeted by a loud and very off key song, apparently about a man...or horse, named Joxer. But it was a most promising sight indeed, for all the singers were quite promiscious looking mortal women, and the only male other than themselves residing in the establishment was a gangly looking dude with a pasta strainer for a shirt. Apart from the fact that he was dancing on the table tops with a small lyre, and was also singing enthusiastcally about this horse called Joxer.  
  
"Looky!" Deimos nudged his raven haired look alike. "Isn't that Xena? You know, Ares love bundle?" For there, sitting behind the bar and decked out in something bright and gawdy and very Aphrodite, was the Warrior Princess herself.  
  
"Ooooh." Strife began to giggle. "Imagine the reputation I'd get if I boinked Xena. I'd be the most famous god on all of Mount Olympus! I could drape myself in velvet if I wanted, and everyone would still respect me." His head swam at the possibilities. "Here Xena, Xena, Xena..."  
  
"Are you crazy?!" Deimos wrenched his backwards, and with two slashing movements of his hand, he slapped Strife, who gasped in horror and gripped his battered cheek. "Whattaya think Ares will have to say about that, huh, huh?! You'd be demoted from Second in Command to personal punching bag faster than you can say 'wingnut'. Xena is strictly off limits."  
  
"You're only sayin' that coz you want her!" Strife snapped in reply.  
  
"Am not." Deimos insisted, trying to keep his eyes from Xena's cleavage. "And where's her armor huh? And why is she sitting around pouring drinks? I think the Warrior Princess has really let herself go." He shrugged. "Why WOULD you want her?"  
  
"Because she's there?" Strife suggested. "Look, I've got all this potential and no where ta spend it." He thrust his pelvis foward to emphasize his meaning. "Shh-wing!"  
  
"Me too!" Deimos repeated the procedure. "Shh-wing!"  
  
"Shh-wing!"  
  
"Shhhhhh-wing!"  
  
"Do you two boys need any help?"  
  
Strife and Deimos both froze, and turning from their gyrations, they saw that Xena's blue eyes were focused squarely on them; but surprisingly, she didn't look like she was going to crack their heads together any time soon. As inconspiciously as possible, Deimos nudged Strife.  
  
"I thought we were invisible." He hissed through clenched teeth.  
  
"Well." Strife considered for a moment. "We have been drinkin. It might have something ta do with it." He suddenly looked quite nervous. "I hope that hasn't affected more vital parts of my anatomy." They both fell to staring at their crotches for a split second, before their eyes met Xena and each flashed a smile, which was obviously very strained.  
  
"Can I fix you two up with anything?" Xena asked, her voice holding the nasal quality of a street hooker. Yes, the warrior woman had certainly let herself go. "Drinks? Women? Rooms for the night? Women? Something to eat maybe? Women?"  
  
"Hmmm, what's the soup of the day?" Deimos requested, chewing his finger nails thoughtfully. Strife's eyes bugged from his head, and quick as a wink, he bankhanded his blond relative about the skull.  
  
"Ya idiot!" He groaned, as Deimos tried to shield himself from the blow. "She's offerin us the ladies. Not a bowl of soup. Honestly, ya have the I.Q of a fish stick."  
  
"But I like fish sticks."  
  
"No, it was an insult, but forget it." Leaving his cousin alone for a moment, he swaggered towards Xena, where pasta-strainer man had situated himself. The women were all staring at his outfit in fascination. "Yeah, er...miss. I dig women!"  
  
"Hey, where do you shop?" The gangly man suddenly interrupted, eyeing his suit happily. Strife paused and shot a perculiar sidelong glance at this strange indivdual. "Hey, do you shop at Warlord's Boutique? Because, I swear, my brother has got exactly the same outfit as that!"  
  
"What?!" Strife demanded, looking about anxiously, his eyes wide. "Never! This is an original! There is no mortal...person, that could possibly have the same get up as this, ya know? It's unrivaled in its kinkiness." He raised his eyebrows at the women. "Well, except maybe for Deimey's. Mine hasn't got the funny crotch strap thingie. But dammit, they make sitting down hard!"  
  
"I bet." Xena looked bored to tears. *Damn, I'm losing em!* Strife thought.  
  
"Anywho..." Strife stood bolt straight, thinking of something else to say, as Deimos loped up behind him. "Um...well, yeah. Women! There's a novel concept." He paused. "Not to say I've never had so few women they're becoming a novel experience...I mean, I've had so many, it makes them..."  
  
"A crappy novelty?" Deimos suggested.  
  
"What about that soup?" Strife asked quickly. Deimos' face immediately lit up, but his grin faded as quickly as it had appeared.  
  
"Soup?" He crossed his arms. "Don't we want sex?"  
  
"You're so subtle." Strife muttered. It simply wasn't going well. "Okay, seeming we've humilated ourselves now..."  
  
"First one to cop a feel can go back home and brag about it?" Deimos suggested. "And then we can go get some Ambrosia smoothies!"  
  
"Done deal!" The woman stood stunned as Strife charged fowards and grabbed at the breast of the nearest woman. She shrieked in horror.  
  
"Joxer!" She wailed. "Joxer, help us!"  
  
"Sure thing!" Well, it was now quite apparent Joxer was not a pony afterall. Charging fowards, he grabbed Strife by the hair and dragged him backwards, throwing a punch which looked more than a little half-assed. Strife saw it coming and ducked it as quickly as he could, and most unfortunately, the nearest woman had Joxer's fist strike her in the face; she yelled and pushed him backwards, where he stumbled into Deimos, who happened to be standing there gaping at all this rampant femininity. Strife winced and tried to grope another woman as quickly as he could, but it was a futile effort, as not only did she bitch-slap him to the ground, Deimos had fallen face first into the buxom chest of the Warrior Princess, gripping at her mighty warrior melons for support.  
  
"Hey Strife, I win!" He began giggling idiotically. "I felt up Xena!"  
  
"Didn't ya say Xena was off limits?" Strife scowled. "I'm sorry Deimos, but I'm just gonna have ta disqualify you from the proceedings." He smirked in self satisfaction, but the Warrior Princess seemed to be enjoying Deimey's up close and personal persona, laughing and all.  
  
"I'm not Xena!" She shook her head. "I'm Meg, one of Xena's bizarre and totally unexplainable identical lookalikes. And I own this brothel."  
  
"Brothel?" The two cousins spoke in complete unison. Strife suddenly realised he may have seriously blew it. And not in the sense he would have actually enjoyed, either. "Will dinars do?" He hopefully pulled out a small purse and jingled it about.  
  
"Get out of my establishment." She spoke flatly, removing Deimos' hands from her breasts with a haughty glance. Strife wasn't prepared to argue and Deimos looked on the verge of tears.  
  
"Or suffer the wrath of Joxer the magnificent!"  
  
"Oh shut up, you wingnut." Strife muttered, as he and Deimos headed towards the door. "But know this! I'm gonna go back to Olympus and I'm gonna tell the whole damn lot of the Olympian Gods that you're all FRIDGIT! Fridgit I say! Ha ha ha..." His laughter degenerated into a pitiful hacking. "We're going now."  
  
Once outside, they pair of gods looked longingly back at the brothel, thunder crackling in the distance as the rain slowly began to fall, soaking them through within minutes. Smoothing damp black hair from his face, Strife looked at Deimos, and Deimos shaking droplets of water from his strikingly blond hair, looked at Strife, and they both fell to pathetic sobbing. Which continued for quite some time, until Deimos had a realisation.  
  
"Hey! Seeming that chick wasn't Xena afterall, it doesn't mean you can disqualify me. I felt up a chick!" His annoying laugh made its umpteenth appearance for the evening. "I am so totally better than you, Cousin Strife! At last, I shall command respect and mortals will fear me!"  
  
"Not when I tell Unc' ya boinked his Warrior Princess." Strife replied flatly, that familiar mischevious glint creeping into cyan eyes. Deimos froze and his lip began to quibble, as he spun, sending water spraying in all directions, to face his cousin.  
  
"You wouldn't."  
  
"Watch me." Strife's grin was evil; Deimos pounced at him, but he had vanished in a shimmer of purple sparkles, and Deimey landed flat on his face, sending mud splattering in all directions. Looking up apathetically, he staggered to his feet, looking to the heavens twitchily, and raising his arms in a highly dramatic manner, he mused.  
  
"Hey! I'm not a virgin anymore!" He giggled at the realization. "Technically I lost it to Xena. This is so great!" He began to dance around in small circles gleefully, as lightning crackled from the darkened skies; striking him with a perfect shot, he came crashing back down to the soggy ground, slightly charred. And finding himself staring at a pair of black leather boots, which, with an upwards glance, were discovered to be attached to an undeniably pissed God of War. Deimos fell to sobbing, looking up at Ares' face, contorted in rage.  
  
"Did I mention that I'm a virgin?"  
  
"Did I mention I'm going to rip out your spleen and shove it up your ass?."  
  
"I was afraid you would say that..."  
  
End. 


End file.
